


in perfect harmony

by liionne



Series: A thousand ways to meet [34]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, M/M, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The baby grand piano has been sat in Jim's front room for a grand total of three months now, ever since is cooky Great Aunt Sandra had passed away and given it to him, of all people. He couldn't play so much as a single note on the thing, wouldn't be able to if he tried, but he liked having it. Spock could play pretty damn beautifully, but only because he was a freaking genius who could speak three languages by the time he was five, and Scotty could play it when he was drunk (or at least, that was what he thought), but Jim had no idea. No matter how many times he sat down in front of it and ran his fingers over the keys, he couldn't do it. He was a car mechanic; he was hardly the next Mozart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in perfect harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of based on [this prompt](http://plotsforall.tumblr.com/post/79899433939/plot-7-lovely-keys-muse-a-has-just-received-a) on tumblr. Unbeta'd, of course.

The baby grand piano has been sat in Jim's front room for a grand total of three months now, ever since is cooky Great Aunt Sandra had passed away and given it to him, of all people. He couldn't play so much as a single note on the thing, wouldn't be able to if he tried, but he liked having it. Spock could play pretty damn beautifully, but only because he was a freaking genius who could speak three languages by the time he was five, and Scotty could play it when he was drunk (or at least, that was what he thought), but Jim had no idea. No matter how many times he sat down in front of it and ran his fingers over the keys, he couldn't do it. He was a car mechanic; he was hardly the next Mozart.

But when three months had passed, he decided that it was time to learn. It was just gathering dust in the corner of the room, and he had it on good authority from the family that he still spoke to that she had played it all the time. He couldn't just let it go to waste.

He saw the poster on a lamp post, decided that they looked cheap, and took one of the little tabs. Knowing it was too late to give the guy a call, he rang in the morning, arranging himself a lesson for the day after.

He sat at the piano until his teacher was due to arrive. He'd never had a lesson before, so he didn't know how it was going to go, but he was actually looking forward to it. He brushed his fingers along the keys, not pressing hard enough to actually make a sound. He'd learn. He knew he would. Because once Jim Kirk set his mind to something, he damn well did it.

The knock at the door made him jump. He'd been sat in the quiet of his house for so long that he'd totally forgotten about the teacher that was arriving. And y'know, he might have been fantasizing about being a famous piano player, wearing a jacket with actual coattails and having rich ladies through themselves at him.

When he did finally answer the door, the guy was not what he was expecting.

On the phone he had sounded gruff, and Jim had assumed old, but he had been dead wrong. So the guy was maybe nearing forty, but he could sure as hell pass for younger with hair so thick and dark, and skin so tan. And of course, there were his eyes- Jim had seen hazel, but he'd never seen hazel quite like that. They were bordering on green, emerald almost, flecked with a golden brown that held Jim in place for a moment.

Before he realised how still he'd been stood, and how long he'd been looking into his eyes, and he cleared his throat.

"You the piano teacher?" He asked.

The other nodded. "Leonard McCoy. We spoke on the phone?"

His voice was way more Southern sounding than it had on the phone, and far less gruff. He vowed never to make telephone-based assumptions ever again.

"Right." Jim nodded. He held his hand out. "Jim Kirk."

Leonard nodded, shaking his hand. "I know."

"Right." Jim repeated, let his hand fall to his side. "Come on in." He stood aside, holding the door open for him, and closing it after him. He could be a gentleman when he wanted to be, after all. "The piano's in the front room."

Leonard made a short survey of Jim's house - which Jim really should have thought to tidy up before he got there - and nodded. "Lead the way."

Jim gave a soft nod, lips pursing. He knew this guy was just his teacher, and he needed to focus on the lesson he was about to give rather than how good he looked, but he had a feeling that it wasn't going to be as easy as that.

Jim led him through to the front room, sunlight streaming through the open curtains right onto the piano. This room didn't have a television in it, and so Jim had decided to make the piano the center of the room, setting it against the wall that all of the furniture faced. Even if he couldn't play it, he could idolise it.

He sat down on the stool, and Leonard sat down beside him. Jim tried to ignore how close they were.

"So do you know how to play at all?" Leonard asked.

Jim shook his head. "Not even a little bit."

He thought that might annoy the other, but all Leonard did was nod. "Alright. Got any books, notes, anything like that?"

Jim shook his head. He was starting to feel rather unprepared. "Sorry." He said. It felt necessary.

Leonard shrugged. "'s alright." He drawled, and Jim tried not to melt. "Try to get some if you can. Alfred Piano Course books are a good way to start, but if you want something else just took a look around the bookstore in town, they have some good books in there."

Jim nodded, making a mental note of that in his head. He'd go out as soon as Leonard had left; once he put his mind to something, he tended to go all out. He'd swot up for their next lesson, read, all the books he could. He wanted to impress this guy.

"I'll teach you the basics for today, then." Leonard said. "And we can start learning some pieces next time."

Jim nodded again. He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of nodding.

Leonard taught him the very basics; which notes were which, what everything was, what it all did, how to read sheet music. Leonard was surprised by how fast Jim learned. And Jim did feel enlightened; he could at least sort of play a tune now, and that was better than nothing. Their lesson was only half an hour, though, and when Jim handed over the $25, he was left feeling quite unfulfilled.

He went to the book store that afternoon, and spent a hell of a lot more than he should have on books. His next lesson with Leonard wasn't for another three days; he had plenty of time to read them all.

When their next lesson rolled around again, Jim felt prepared. He'd managed to read and learn ten of the fifteen books he'd bought, and though he hadn't meant to, he was half way through learning "Fly Me to the Moon".

"You get any of those books we talked about?" Leonard asked on his way to the piano.

Jim lied. "A couple."

"Great." Leonard nodded. "We'll start learning pieces then. Nothing too hard to start off with-" He put the first sheet up, and Jim's face paled. "Just a bit of Sinatra."

And now Leonard was going to know just how much of a nerd he was. Maybe Jim could fake ignorance. Yeah- that was what he'd do.

"Want to have a go, or do you want me to show you?" Leonard asked.

"Show me." Jim said. The perfect cover, he thought.

Jim was aware of the beautiful sound that was coming from the piano itself, but he was a little preoccupied with Leonard's long fingers that danced so gracefully across the keys, pressing with feather-light touches and getting such a smooth, elegant song from the instrument. Jim was, once again, astounded.

He was pulled out of his head by the sudden absence of sound.

"Now you try." Leonard said.

Jim forgot about faking as soon as he began playing, his fingers following the familiar pattern he'd set in his head. Of course he only knew half, so once he'd reached the end of the first half the song he had to concentrate a little harder. His fingers grew a little clumsier and a little heavier, and the melody became a little more stunted and slow.

When he reached the end of the song, though, Leonard was clearly impressed. He was looking at Jim with what the other though might be awe- that was what it looked like, anyway.

"You learn fast." He commented.

Jim shrugged. "Always have."

Leonard blinked.

"I might've started learning a bit of it, too..." Jim said. He couldn't lie, for some reason. Not to Leonard.

"Still." The other said, raising his eyebrows. "Three days. That's pretty damn good."

Jim was blushing. He could feel it. "Thanks."

Leonard stared at him a moment longer, and Jim was sure he was looking at his cheeks, not quite meeting his gaze. That only made Jim blush harder; he was sure he could see a smile tugging at Leonard's lips.

"Try from the middle." Leonard instructed, lips still twitching. "From the bit you haven't learned."

Jim played, and kept playing until he had learned it. Leonard jumped in to correct him sometimes, pointing out where Jim was misplacing his fingers, but he was careful never to touch him.

Jim almost wished he would.

When Jim finally glanced at the clock, Leonard had been there for an extra twenty five minutes.

"Shit." He muttered. "We ran over. How much is the extra? I can pay it, it's fine-"

"No need." Leonard said. When Jim looked up, the other immediately met his gaze. "$25'll cover it. Just learn another song for next time, alright? I know you can do it."

Jim's jaw fell a little slack, before he fumbled to give him his payment. Technically he should be giving Leonard $50 since they'd practically done two lessons, and he was surprised the other had let him off with it.

Jim spent that night, and then the next three days, wondering why.

He learned "Hey Jude" start to finish. Leonard still had a few corrections, but not many.

He then learned "How to Save a Life". Leonard had even fewer corrections than before.

When Jim finally learned "Someone Like You", and Leonard had absolutely no corrections whatsoever, there was a smile on his lips.

"Not bad, kid." He said, nodding. "Not bad at all."

Jim beamed. He was allowed to beam, he was proud of himself. Leonard looked up and caught him grinning, and Jim noted how he looked for a moment to long before he looked away.

Of course, Jim only noticed because he was staring too.

"Try learn something harder for next time. Learn something classical." Leonard said as he was leaving. "You're good, Jim. I know you can do it."

With that bit of praise, Jim was set to learn a whole new piece.

It was after about two months that Leonard sat down with Jim, and placed a piece of sheet music in front of him. Jim had never seen it before, but he knew it didn't look to complex.

"Play it for me." Leonard said.

Jim looked at him, stared for a moment to long (as did Leonard), and then began to play.

The piece was simple, and Jim played it with ease, but when he was done, Leonard was frowning, lips curving downward. Jim frowned in turn; what had he done wrong?

"Play it softer." Leonard said. "You don't have to bash the keys to get a note out of 'em."

Jim nodded, and tried it again. He didn't get half way through before Leonard set his hands over his, aligning their fingers.

"Like this."

He ever so gently pushed on Jim's middle finger, earning a soft sound for his efforts. Or lack of them, actually. He did the same with his ring finger, and Jim moved his hand according to the music. They played at least a quarter of the song like that, before Leonard moved his hands back into his lap. "Now try."

Jim tried to play it as Leonard had instructed, but now his heart was racing and he was very conscious of how close they were on that stool. He stumbled at first, before he picked it up again, the melody quiet compared to all of the other pieces Jim had played.

"What was that?" He asked at the end, when he was finished. Leonard still didn't look like he approved. "What was it called?"

"To a Darling." Leonard answered. "It was called To a Darling."

"Who wrote it?" Jim asked.

From the look on Leonard's face, Jim had an idea.

"I did." He answered. "Wrote it for my fiancee. I was going to play it at our wedding."

"Got a DJ instead?" Jim asked, joking. He wished he'd kept his bag fat mouth shut when he saw the solemn look on Leonard's face.

"She didn't show up." He answered instead. "Didn't leave a note. Still don't know where she is."

They sat in silence for a moment, as Jim decided what to do and Leonard obviously relived it in his head. After a second, Jim reached out to take his hand. It just felt right.

"She obviously doesn't know a good thing when she's got it." He said.

Leonard looked at him for what felt like an eternity. Jim wanted to lean in and kiss him, but he stayed still. He was hardly going to force himself on a man so vulnerable.

"Time's up." Leonard said after a moment, tugging his hand from Jim's as he stood, turning away from him. Jim sighed. Of course. Time was up. Time to go.

Jim handed him his money, and on his way out, Leonard said, "Try learning a new piece. Something hard."

Jim nodded, but he had already decided what he was going to do for next lesson. And whilst it did involve learning a piece, it involved a few other things too.

When Leonard came in for their next lesson, there was a sheet of music written out in blue biro in place. Jim sat down next to Leonard, wordlessly, and began to play.

Leonard sat in silence, eyes a little wide, but Jim wasn't looking at him. He focused on the music, on the melody, that raised to a crescendo and then fell so quiet, was simple and yet so elegant, and was so different, Jim thought, to the piece he had last played.

"What was that called?" Leonard asked, after a moment's silence at the end of the song.

"Pour mon chéri." Jim answered.

"For my darling." Leonard translated.

Jim smiled. "You speak French?"

"Every good Southern Gentleman does." Leonard answered.

Silence, again.

"You wrote it." Leonard assumed. It certainly wasn't a question.

Jim nodded.

"Did you- I mean, was it written- who-"

Leonard fumbled over his words for the first time since Jim had met him. With a soft smile, Jim took his hand again.

"I wrote it for you." He admitted.

He was surprised with how quickly and how hard Leonard kissed him. He all but pulled Jim into his lap into his haste; not that the other minded.

"I don't think you need lessons anymore." He murmured when he pulled away. Jim felt oddly triumphant over how breathless he sounded.

"Maybe not." Jim agreed. He leaned in to press another brief kiss to Leonard's lips, followed by another, and another, far too close to be able to stop himself.

"Teach me." Leonard said, when Jim pulled away again. It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a demand either. His voice was soft, and gentle, just like the song had been.

Jim nodded, taking both of Leonard's hands and laying his over the top, aligning his fingers with his. "'Course. It's easy." He murmured, as he began to play.


End file.
